Fourteen-years going strong!
From MArooned (link): For the uninitiated, the deal is that on November 19th the dutiful Gunnie is to go out and purchase at least 100 rounds of ammunition, ideally center-fire ammo but rim-fire if money’s tight (although these days, with the price of .22LR what it is, that’s not as much of an issue any more).
Ideally pick up 100 rounds of rifle ammo, or at least defensive pistol ammunition. Something more than plinking or casual range fodder would be great (although, really, anything is better than nothing).
As far as .22LR goes it’s not just price, it’s availability (or lack thereof) – but I don’t shoot a lot of .22LR to begin with.
I did not get into shooting via the much vaunted .22 round, because I didn’t start as a kid.
I began shooting with the .30-40 Krag (and whenever I come across a box I buy one), and moved up to the M1 Garand in .30-06 – and a .38spl S&W Model 10, followed by a ’43 1911A1 Colt Govt. Model .45ACP — for .22 I don’t have much emotional attachment. As far as .22 projectile launchers I only have a Sig P220/.22LR conversion kit-barrel thing, and the 1913 S&W 3rd Model Perfected Olympic single-shot pistol.
Instead we do (already) have a case of .22WRF (magnum-like!) for my Wife’s old Winchester Model 90 rifle – and as for feeding the Mossberg, I need more twelve-bore, but I’m enough of a bore already!
UPDATE: 100-rounds of American Eagle .38Spl, and 30 (6-boxes) rounds of “Royal Buck Low Recoil”, from Rio Ammunition, Inc. out of McEwen TN. It seems to be of Spanish ownership, the parent company being MAXAM Outdoors, S.A. Madrid – with manufacturing plants located in Spain, England, and Tennessee… Only $2.99 a box of five.
The weather was a cool 68-degrees when we rolled out at 9:45, no clouds. We went down Bass Lake Road through Serano onto White Rock Road, and took that way out to Scott and hung a left out in the middle of nowhere. We drove past the backside of the Hangtown MX National Track.
Scott is a quintessential crowned two-lane blacktop hoot-and-holler blind-turn decreasing-radius roller-coaster ride. Be careful, there’s no shoulder and the barb-wire fence is right there after the ditch. Surprise! Some heavy-equipment came past in the opposite direction, wide-load stuff that was too big (and slow) for the freeway. One rig was pulling a flat-bed equipment-trailer, with a well-used, giant-yellow, earth-moving dumper riding on it. It was like a super-giant Tonka truck. Wide-Load indeed, the rubber of the tires bulged-out off the side of the flatbed and I thought it might brush-off my side-mirror. Be careful for what you find out there.
We drove on down, up and down, through an arbor of old oak-trees to Jackson Road (Hwy 16) and (right turn) thence through Rancho Murietta to Ione Road and on down to Meiss Road. You can guess where that leads. Forty-odd miles later we arrived.
Waiting outside in the truck my wife had observed the “changing of the guard” protocols: the RO calling the Cease-Fire over the PA system, then checking down the line, calling safe, and everybody (what few were there this morning) standing back behind the yellow, or going forward to change targets. I had briefly explained the touch/no-touch rules, but for a non range-rat it really helps to actually *see* it in operation and understand the safety involved. My biggest gripe going shooting the very first time was that nobody told me what to do or not to do, and I got yelled-at by an RO because I was out-of-line. I didn’t think my wife would appreciate that kind of baptism by fire-breath. It’s something we should all do for newbies. We put eyes-and-ears on, and entered the Main range-house/Pro Shop for some orientation.
The Staff is friendly and facilities are HUGE! They operate the facility and have some 40-different vendors who teach and train there, lotta classes, lotsa public matches – and somehow I gotta get back into my CMP groove.
Upon entry to the facility, by the front gate, are separate Skeet, Trap, and Clay ranges. Up By the main-range house are the 100-yard Rifle and 50-yard Pistol ranges – with a 300-yard rifle-lane for the public (if you can shoot a 100-yard group).
Next to that is a whole Silhouette set-up, with chickens (200 M), pigs (300 M), turkeys (385M), and rams at 500 meters – huh, metric guys. Further along there are six action-pistol bays for the SASS crowd, and then you get to the 1,000 yard long-distance range…
We joined. My wife wants to go back and shoot her Model 90 Winchester, and revolvers. Maybe try the AR too…
On out way out we went back up to Jackson Highway and took a right, then after a few miles a left on Old Sacramento Road and another left when we crossed Latrobe. We drove up Latrobe back to EDH and had a pizza at a little place in the newly built “Towne Centre.”
We could have gone right on Latrobe to Plymouth, and from there up 49 to El Dorado, or taken South Shingle off Latrobe right up to Durock Road (my buddy Pete told me “Durock” (durak) means idiot/moron in Russian – take that Putin.), and that’s the way I’ll probably go on any return trip since it leads right home… Rain forecast for Wednesday.
It’s a lot more satisfying than sitting-up. Also since the diaphragm is not under pressure from other organs stacking-up on it, I think you get more and better airflow – but I’m not an MD so I don’t know the actuals on that, but my walking-around breath seemed a bit short while I was occupied in the upright sleep-position.
We took a bunch of closet items and personal things: clothes and other materials, to the Snowline Hospice re-sale store. They are our main donation location since we don’t do that much with Goodwill up here.
Clear but cool not cold, more rain coming middle of the week.
We take a(nother) day out of the automatic drip rotation this week – so we’re down to one day of watering a week: Sunday. But we (now) have full rain-barrels that we’ll empty each time between storms and rain so that the plants and trees don’t suffer.
The Mossberg is coming along, I think I need to get the off-side (lefty) QD point, two rights don’t make it work, and I still need a bayonet – and a shotgun class. I have the Louis Awerbuck DVD but watching is not doing.
The last couple days we have awakened in a low cloud. By lunch-time visibility has increased to several miles and in the afternoon and evening the sunsets have brightened the low clouds. But last night the sun set within a slit of high and low clouds, and around 4:30AM the rain was pouring down in earnest. Today has been rainy and misty and drizzly all day and our rain-barrels are full again…Visibility is about a half-mile in one direction and much less in the other. The Sierras are getting snow but only at higher elevations (7,000 feet and up) because it’s a warm storm with Mid-Pacific moisture, not Alaskan.
Obama’s Gun-Running Czar Eric Holder was unavailable for comment, or to plead for 5th Amendment protection, while fawning millionaire hypocrite Kerry signs UN arms treaty – which senators threaten to block.
I wonder how many of the 43 dead Mexican Student-Teachers killed by the Guerreros Unidos cartel were killed by BATFE “Fast & Furious” smuggled guns.
Drug gang members have described a horrific effort to make 43 teachers college students disappear, piling their bodies like cord wood on a pyre that burned for 15 hours and then wading into the ashes to pulverize, bag and dispose of remaining teeth and bones.
…They were driven to killing grounds in a dump truck so tightly packed about 15 of the young men suffocated to death. The others were then slain, apparently shot to death, and all were put on the fire, which was fueled by gasoline, diesel, wood, plastic and old tires.
The fact that the Mexican Police were implicit in handover of students to the Cartel gunmen under orders of Iguala Mayor José Luís Abarca is a further travesty of justice – and a perfect example of a Police State where only the Police are allowed guns, using thug-proxies to do its dirty-dirty enforcement work.
Thank you all who have served. In this day and age with the way things are trending, it is no mean feat to
not regret it keep your chin-up – so thank you.
Just learned that our friend the B-29 Navigator who flew many missions out of Saipan and Tinian has gone to join his lofty comrades. His 10-year remission cancer returned, but the down-time spent at last was short and final and free of pain.
I already posted about my misadventures across The Wall here, and here, it was one of the critical things I had to get off my chest as I began blogging and critiquing the utterly abject and constant failures of Socialism/Communism/Fascism. If there’s one aspect of that nasty nexus of bad-brain stupidity and irredeemably toxic philosophy, besides being two sides of the same lousy coin, it’s the repetition of Failure built upon Failure.
I’m glad it fell. Free Health Insurance? HA! They were laboratory guinea pigs: Look what ruined lives their Olympic “Athletes” led. The Left unhesitatingly uses people as lab-animals to achieve a thin veneer of credibility, and the Socialist Medal Machine was no slouch. Bastards.
I’m glad it’s gone. Besides twisting and ruining the bodies of its own athletic corps, it twisted and distorted the landscape around it. Like a heavy-gravity neutrino spitting-out cancerous lesions, it altered and crushed the relationships of people both within the Sphere of Influence and without, and laid waste to the countryside planted with mines and machine-guns. My German friends who were free on the outside were still tethered by a chain of Family to a hideous, barnacle-encrusted, red floating-mine that always seemed ready to explode. Their freedoms were warped and exaggerated in dimension to the un-freedoms of the hapless residents within – and oftentimes I thought it played a part in the reckless wanton hedonism I saw exhibited among my peers. The two Polish kids who were favored Diplomats’ Apparatchik children in India behaved in the most bizarre social manner too, nearly always drunk and aggressively selfish, they chain-smoked and gambled at the racetrack as if they could lose everything at any moment – and I suppose they could. They also stole things, and then had the gall to brag about it, so after a visit you could reasonably expect that sometime was missing. A wristwatch, a pack of smokes, a lighter, a fork. Something-anything. Another hidden aspect of jealousy-driven Communism: no real satisfaction in things whatsoever, just temporary trophies and sad triumphalism – all was ennui.